Plus-Size Bratva Bride (Vadim Bratva #9)

Chapter 6 - Abe

I burst through the casino doors, the cool night air hitting my face like a slap. What the hell just happened in there? My mind reeled, trying to process the fact that I'd nearly taken Pippa's virginity right there in her office.

"Fuck," I growled, pacing the sidewalk like a caged animal. My hands trembled as I ran them through my hair, tugging at the roots. The ghost of her soft curves still burned against my palms, her breathy moans echoing in my ears.

I was this close to ripping off her clothes, laying her on that desk, shoving my cock into her warm pussy. If I hadn’t realized then, hadn’t commented on how tight she felt around my finger, this could have ended all wrong.

I'd been with countless women, but none had ever affected me like this. Pippa was infuriating, challenging me at every turn with that sharp tongue and those high walls. And yet, the moment I'd touched her…

"Get it together, Ustinov," I muttered, clenching my fists so hard my knuckles turned white. I could still smell her perfume on my skin.

My body thrummed with unfulfilled desire, every nerve ending on fire. I wanted nothing more than to march back inside and finish what we'd started, consequences be damned. But the image of Pippa's wide, innocent eyes flashed through my mind, tempering my lust with an unfamiliar protectiveness.

"She deserves better than a quick fuck in a casino," I growled, kicking at a nearby trash can. The metal clang echoed down the empty street, matching the chaos in my head.

I took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of control. This was Pippa we were talking about—a woman who tries to keep me out every chance she gets. The fact that she was a virgin shouldn't change anything.

And yet, it changed everything.

My mind drifted to past conquests, a parade of faceless women who'd been nothing more than temporary distractions. I'd always prided myself on my prowess, my ability to leave them breathless and begging for more. Rough, demanding, taking what I wanted without apology. The images rush back, of women on their knees, of the perfectly timed smack on a tight ass, hands and mouths gagged.

But with Pippa… Christ, I'd want to be gentle. To savor every curve, every soft sigh. The urge to protect warred with my base instincts, leaving me off-balance and confused.

"This is insane," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "She's practically half your age, you idiot."

The age gap was just the tip of the iceberg. I ticked off reasons in my head like a goddamn shopping list:

1. She's too young.

2. She works for the boss.

3. She's a virgin, for fuck's sake.

4. We can't stand each other most of the time.

5. I'd probably break her with my usual… proclivities.

"Face it, Abe," I growled to myself. "You're too rough, too set in your ways. She deserves someone who can give her the fairy tale."

But even as I tried to convince myself, all I could think about was the way she'd melted against me, those bottle-green eyes gazing up with a mixture of desire and trust that made my chest ache.

"Dammit, Pippa," I sighed, leaning against the cool brick of the building. "What the hell are you doing to me?"

The shrill ring of my phone cut through my brooding like a knife. I growled, fishing it out of my pocket with every intention of hurling it across the parking lot.

"What?" I snarled, not bothering to check the caller ID.

"Well, hello to you too, sunshine," my older brother Ivan's dry voice crackled through the speaker. "Having a lovely evening?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose, exhaling slowly. "Ivan. What do you want?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just thought you'd like to know the Pietros are on the move."

My irritation evaporated, replaced by laser-sharp focus. "Where?"

"Our guys spotted three of their top lieutenants near the docks. Looked like they were scoping out the Vadims’ shipping routes."

"Fuck," I hissed, already striding toward my car. "How long ago?"

"About twenty minutes. Vlad's heading there now, but—”

“Vadim?”

“No. Our brother.”

"I'm on my way," I cut him off, sliding behind the wheel. "Keep me updated."

"Will do. And Abe?"

"Yeah?"

Ivan's voice softened slightly. "Whatever's got you wound up… handle it. We can't afford distractions right now."

I gritted my teeth, refusing to acknowledge the twinge of guilt. "I've got it under control."

"Sure you do," he replied, unconvinced. "Just get your head in the game, Brother."

The line went dead, and I tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. As I peeled out of the parking lot, tires squealing, I forcibly shoved all thoughts of Pippa to the back of my mind. The family needed me. Everything else could wait.

***

I gunned the engine, weaving through traffic with laser focus. The Pietros moving on our territory was a bold play—one we couldn't afford to ignore. As I sped toward the docks, I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline, grateful for the distraction from my earlier… complications.

My younger brother Vlad was already there when I arrived, his hulking silhouette unmistakable even in the dim light. I killed the engine and approached silently, years of training kicking in as I scanned our surroundings.

"Anything?" I murmured, coming to stand beside him.

He shook his head, eyes never leaving the warehouse across the street. "Not yet. But something's off."

I nodded, trusting his instincts. Vlad might be the youngest of us, but he had a nose for trouble that rivaled even Ivan's. We stood in tense silence, the salty air prickling my skin as we watched and waited.

A flicker of movement caught my eye—a shadow where there shouldn't be one. I tapped Vlad's arm, gesturing subtly. He inclined his head, confirming he'd seen it too.

"I'll circle around back," I whispered. "You take the front. Quiet and clean."

"Always," Vlad replied with a hint of that cocky grin.

As I crept toward the rear of the building, my senses sharpened to a knife's edge. The crunch of gravel under my boots, the distant lapping of waves against the pier—every sound seemed amplified in the stillness of the night.

I reached for my gun, the weight of it comforting in my hand. Part of me hoped for a confrontation, craving the simplicity of action and reaction. It was so much easier than dealing with… other things.

Pushing away the unwelcome thought of that gorgeous full face and soft curves, I focused on the feel of the gun in my hand.

I edged around the corner, my back pressed against the rough brick wall. Vlad appeared on the opposite side, our eyes meeting in silent communication. Years of working together had honed our ability to move as one unit, anticipating each other's actions without a word.

With a subtle nod, we burst through the door simultaneously. The room erupted into chaos—shouts, the scraping of chairs, the telltale click of weapons being drawn. My body moved on autopilot, muscle memory taking over as I disarmed the first assailant with a swift strike.

"Left!" Vlad called out, and I ducked instinctively as a fist sailed over my head.

We moved in perfect synchronicity, covering each other's blind spots and taking down threats with ruthless efficiency. It was like a deadly dance, and despite the danger, I felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins.

As the dust settled, Vlad and I stood back-to-back, surveying the scene. A dozen men lay groaning or unconscious at our feet.

"Just like old times, eh?" Vlad chuckled, slightly out of breath.

I couldn't help but grin. "You're getting slow in your old age, little brother. I counted seven to your five."

Vlad rolled his eyes. "Quality over quantity, Abe. Besides, I was distracted trying to keep your ass out of trouble."

As we began securing the prisoners, Vlad's tone shifted. "Speaking of distractions," he said casually, "you seemed a bit off your game earlier. Something on your mind?"

I tensed, memories of soft skin and interrupted kisses flashing unbidden through my mind. "Just focused on the job," I grunted, hoping he'd drop it.

Vlad's knowing smirk told me he wasn't buying it. "Uh-huh. And I'm the Pope. Come on, Abe. I know that look. Who is she?"

I felt my jaw clench, a familiar tension creeping up my neck. "There's no 'she,' Vlad," I snapped, my voice harsher than I intended. "Drop it."

Vlad raised an eyebrow, that infuriating smirk still playing on his lips. "Touchy, aren't we? Must be someone special to get under your skin like that."

I turned away, busying myself with zip-tying one of the unconscious goons. "I said drop it," I growled, fighting to keep my composure. The last thing I needed was Vlad poking around in my personal life, especially when I couldn't make sense of it myself.

Thankfully, Vlad seemed to get the message. He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Consider it dropped. For now."

I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to refocus on the task at hand. "What did you find in their communication logs?"

Vlad's expression turned serious as he pulled out his phone. "Looks like they're planning a major shipment next week. Weapons, mostly. Big enough to cause some serious trouble if it goes through."

I nodded, my mind already racing through potential strategies. "We'll need to set up surveillance on the docks. Ivan's got some contacts in customs that might be useful."

"Already on it," Vlad replied. "I've got a team ready to move in 48 hours."

As we continued to discuss the details of our plan, I felt my earlier distraction fading. This was what I was good at—strategy, action, the thrill of outsmarting our enemies. It was familiar territory, unlike the confusing mess of emotions I'd been grappling with earlier.

Yet, despite throwing myself into the planning, a small part of my mind kept drifting back to Pippa. I pushed the thoughts aside. There would be time to deal with… whatever this was… later.

***

As I left the scene, the cool night air hit my face. I loosened my tie, feeling the weight of what nearly happened settle on my shoulders once again.

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath, running a hand through my hair. Despite my best efforts, thoughts of Pippa kept creeping in, like an unwelcome guest at a private party.

I pulled out my phone, thumb hovering over her contact. What would I even say? “Sorry, I almost took your virginity in a moment of weakness?” Christ, I was losing my edge.

"Get it together, Abe," I growled to myself, shoving the phone back into my pocket. She and I were like oil and water. I don’t do well with innocence. Had I taken her virginity, she would have been scarred by who I was.

But as I climbed into my car, I couldn't shake the image of her flushed face, those full lips parted in surprise. The way her body had fit against mine, soft yet unyielding.

I gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white. I tried to think of other things. But even as I pulled away, heading toward the compound to brief Ivan, I knew I was fighting a losing battle.